


And Then He Kissed Me!

by cosplayermadness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: 13 x 23, First Kiss, Jody Mills (mentioned) - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosplayermadness/pseuds/cosplayermadness
Summary: Set several months after season 13, so spoilers.Gabriel had been a Sam’s shadow since he’d come back from the empty for WEEKS and Sam can’t figure out why. But he will...





	And Then He Kissed Me!

“Jesus, you drive me up the wall!” Sam threw the pillow at the man, missing him by a scant few inches and hitting the wall instead.

 

“Actually, it’s Gabe, but whatever. Semantics.”

 

At first, it had been a relief to see the archangel alive again. Michael in his Dean suit had last been spotted in Switzerland back in August, Sam had been moments away from straight up making a demon deal to find his brother himself. Jack, sweet child who could see how much Sam had neglected in taking care of himself, insisted they go for the six hour drive up north to see Jody and the girls for the weekend. Jack, sweet nougat loving Jack, insisted he go with the girls to the mall and check out an escape room, and since neither Sam nor Jody ever went to one, the two had been dragged along. It only seemed serendipitous that as they were locked inside, the entire mall would lose power and a certain sweet loving trickster angel had been drawn to the Toblerone in Jack’s pocket, materializing in front of Alex who promptly punched him in the face when he startled her from sheer habit alone - much to the amusement of both Patience and Claire. The power surge had been, of course, all Gabriel’s doing, because only someone as dramatic as Gabriel would come back from the dead with enough force as to stop an entire power grid of a shopping center on a Saturday afternoon. 

 

Sam closed his eyes, attempting to calm the hell down. “How the Empty managed to stand having you around for all those months, I will never know.” He cracked an eye open, watching Gabriel cautiously as he picked up the pillow on the floor and placed it carefully on the bed where Sam had thrown it seconds ago.

 

“Well… I wish I had an answer for ya, Sammich, but I guess all I can say to that is the guy sure as shit was good looking.” His smirk didn’t have it’s normal edge to it, falling flat on his lips.

 

Placing his copy of  _ Killers of the Flower Moon _ on the side table, he scooted to the foot of the bed where Gabriel sat, fingers bunched in the bedspread. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s on your mind?”

 

He scoffed. “On my mind? Pffft! Nothing. Definitely not thinking about how my brother from bizarro-world is now here, in our world, using your brother as a meat suit, trying to get out  _ my _ brother from  _ this world _ outta the cage where he’s using your  _ other _ brother as a meat suit, and how together they could level the entire universe and would probably sell me out to the highest bidder if…” he trailed off. “If… if it meant an upper hand…”

 

He did this sometimes. He’d start a sentence in a jesting tone, only to trail off in morbid thought, zoning out until someone would bring him back to earth. Often, Sam was that someone. Mary and Jack were the only other people in the bunker who would even attempt, the rest leaving him to stare off into space for hours at a time. It was concerning: an archangel, their power absolute, stuck in their own head, staring unblinking at the wall for hours at a time. Sam carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, shuffling closer. “Gabe…  _ Gabe. _ ” Startled eyes turned towards him. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re in the bunker, remember?”

 

Eyebrows knitted in confusion, eyes darting around Sam’s head a moment before resting on his face again. “I- hmm. Right, yeah, in your room. I was… um, I was trying to get you to watch… something.”

 

“Yeah,  _ Rampage. _ You put the DVD on my desk, see?” He pointed to said case, already open. “You burst in here complaining about how boring I am and demanded a movie night.”

 

“Right, right.” The pieces fell back into place, Gabriel nodding along. “Then you told me to leave and I started pestering you.” His shoulders slumped in defeat, starting to stand. “I’m sorry, I’ll go. You should finish re-”

 

“Stay.” Sam’s hand was firm, pushing him back to sit down on the bed next to him. He didn’t delude himself into thinking he was strong enough to actually manhandle the angel, but he did have sway. “I’m done reading for now, and we both could do with some distraction. I’ll set it up, you get popcorn?”

 

He studied Sam a while - someone ought to remind angels it’s impolite to  _ stare!  _ \- and if he were betting on it, he’d say that maybe Gabriel had confusion in his eyes. “Hmmm. I’ll grab licorice and some skittles too.” Sam’s face screwed up in disgust. “What? No go on the skittles?”

 

“Dude. No licorice. It’s gross.”

 

Gabriel stood up quickly. Never in his long life had he ever felt so insulted! “How  _ dare  _ you, Winchester? Licorice has been used in medicine for hundreds of years, it’s a staple and we shouldn’t ignore it or push it to the side just cuz  _ someone  _ has his hang ups.”

 

Sam scoffed, arms crossing in front of his chest in defence. “I don’t have hang ups with  _ licorice.  _ It’s just gross. And skittles have more sugar in three pieces than an entire  _ cheesecake _ has-“

 

“No it doesn’t!”

 

“- yeah-huh!”

 

“Nuh-uh!”

 

“Uuuuuuh yeah-huh!”

 

“You’re nuts!”

 

“Look who’s talkin’, man!”

 

They stared at each other, Gabriel’s hands on his hips, Sam staring up at him from his seat on the bed, and they lost it. Laughter was a rare thing for Sam and his family. But today, it was plentiful. They laughed so hard, Sam had tears in his eyes, and Gabriel needed to sit down. 

 

Wiping at his eyes, Sam let out a shuddering breath, trying to school himself. “That- wow. Haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

 

“Mmm.” Gabe hummed. “It’s a crying shame, really. You have a good laugh.”

 

“Shut up.” Sam shoved at his shoulder playfully. “Go get some  _ good  _ snacks, and maybe some beer. I wanna watch this  _ today.  _ We still on for  _ Venom _ next weekend?”

 

Gabriel’s responding smile was small, sweet, and surprisingly genuine. “Of course.” His voice was soft, almost careful. It was weird for Sam, not used to seeing Gabe so gentle. “I wouldn’t miss it for any reason.” 

 

Sam pushed him gently off the bed, saying nothing as he nudged him out the door. Having Gabriel around the past few months had made it bearable to be without his brother. Gabe was as much of a jokester as he’d remembered, but with less of an edge. He was softer, calmer. Not by much, really, especially with the turmoil no doubt boiling away in his brain. Being stabbed to death by your big brother after finally getting a chance of freedom from the abuser who held you against your will for eight long years would do that to a person. Archangel. Whatever. 

 

Still, his presence was nice, almost soothing. His pranks were much more pedestrian as of late, switching the salt for sugar in the salt shakers and covering everyone’s door with various cut outs of Nick Cage were just the tip of the lame but somewhat funny pranks he had pulled just this past week alone. It was a wonder he hadn’t been punched when he slipped some hair dye in Jack and Mary’s shampoos. Though his mother would never admit it, she  _ did _ look good in pink. 

 

The door opened again minutes later, Sam already setting up the movie when Gabriel strode back in. To Sam’s surprise, a plate was placed on his lap, several sandwiches piled on it. Looking at his friend, he opened his mouth to ask why, but was abruptly cut off with a “I know they’re your favourite. Just eat them” before settling on the bed next to him. He normally would flop onto his belly, legs kicking in the air behind him, head propped up on his hands. But not that day. No, Gabriel decided instead to sit with his back against the headboard, arm against Sam’s.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He was warm next to him, comforting. Chuck knows how much Sam needed comfort. He didn’t dare ask anyone for it though, not for a decade. It felt too much like defeat. So he said nothing as he dug into the peanut butter banana monstrosities, previews beginning to roll. 

 

It wasn’t that Sam thought being comforted was akin to weakness, it was just an internal monologue he’d have playing on repeat in his head since he was a kid.  **_Don’t become someone who relies on other people._ ** He could still hear his father’s voice in his head, over and over again like a broken record.  **_Crying won’t bring them back, make our job easier. You can’t be weak. You show vulnerability and they’ll kill you without a second thought._ ** So he shoved it down, down into the bottom of his stomach and hoped he didn’t puke emotional vomit on anyone. 

 

But Gabriel wasn’t fooled by Sam’s act. The angel knew Sam was hurting, knew he felt ashamed to ask for comfort and support. So he inserted himself in every waking moment he could. 

 

It started with the Great Pancake Disaster Of 2018™️ on the last day of August. Mary had woken on that Friday morning earlier than normal, no one else awake save for Gabriel. They chatted in the kitchen over coffee, Mary regaling a story of how she’d accidentally broken her father’s hand when she was a child. He enjoyed his talks with her, always wanting to know more about the woman who’d been taken out of Heaven by his controlling and manipulative aunt as a peace offering of sorts. It never ceased the amaze him at how little Amara regarded human souls. 

 

They’d been talking so long, they completely forgot to make breakfast for the rest of the bunker until Sam walked in, Jack on his heels, both complaining about wanting pancakes. So, naturally, Gabe made some with a snap of his fingers. Okay, a lot. Maybe too many, with far too many bottles of syrup. One of which ended up on Sam’s head, pancake perched in a floppy manner, syrup soaking his hair and trailing down his forehead. He didn’t  _ intend  _ to do that, he was just… distracted. Yeah, sure,  _ distracted.  _

 

And so began the near constant pestering of Gabriel, Archangel Of The Lord™️.

 

The texting was the first new thing he had taken up. Communicating with nothing but emojis for an entire week, blowing up Sam’s phone with sixty five texts in less than twenty two minutes, something he timed as he attempted to watch The Good Place, but ultimately couldn’t. Then, the voicemails started. It was dumb, frankly, ineffective and lots of extra work on Gabe’s part. He’d wait till Sam was away from his phone long enough to leave a trivia fact or dumb fake accented messages that rambled on and on. 

 

“ _ Sammy, did you know that pineapples have an enzyme that breaks down proteins? That means that when you’re eating pineapples, they’re eating you back!”  _

 

_ “I vent to ze market today. So many beets, so little cabbage. Ze man in ze stall sold me some little radishes, ve can pickle zem for ze vinter!” _

 

_ “The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself, and shapeshifters who can turn into giant man-eating spiders from mars! Oh, the horror! Oh no! One of them is coming for me! Don’t forget - kah-sssshhh - about me - kah-sssshhh - Sammy!”  _

 

_ “Sammich, hear me out. Do you think that if we put a werewolf on the moon, would it be stuck in its wolf state? Or would they be hopping back and forth without meaning to, and their heart can’t take it and they die? Like, is that why there aren’t any werewolf astronauts? Obviously we wouldn’t put them up there without proper gear, I’m just sayin-“  _

 

The emails were weird too - ranging from links of videos about kittens to eBay listings for rare and cursed objects to an ad about Pepsi where the actor in the commercial looked  _ suspiciously  _ like Gabriel. It didn’t stop there.

 

Weird things just followed them. Sam finding a book on constipation laying on his bed followed a very weird interaction at the diner with a waitress who didn’t so much as flirt with him as eye him, Jack, and Gabriel as if she hadn’t pooped in a week. The sixty second dance party in the bunker, the lights in the library and war room flashing different colours, Donna Summer blasting from unseen speakers was annoying, but tolerable. The superglue on the Impala steering wheel was the last straw. 

 

He’d been Sam’s shadow for six weeks - six  _ long  _ weeks - after the Pancake Incident™️, trailing after him, making sure he was never alone. At first, it was nice, but trying to follow Sam into the bathroom? Nah, not cool. A point he made one relatively calm Wednesday. 

 

Most of the bunker refugees had started to hunt with them.  Half sat and did research, ready to be on call whilst the other half went out in pairs, ganking low level ghosts and helping out other hunters in need of extra hands. That Wednesday, with most out hunting, the bunker was relatively quiet. 

 

Sam had showered, exhausted from staying up late doing research. A nasty influx of ghouls in Ohio had kept him up late into the night, piecing together the possible location of their nest. He had barely opened the door of the shower room before startling at seeing Gabriel standing a foot away. 

 

“So I was thinking that with Halloween coming up and all, maybe we should get Jack a costume, make a big deal of it.”

 

“Not now Gabe. I’m too tired.”

 

“O-kay…. but I was thinking-“

 

“Gabe!” He bodily moved him out of the way, hands on shoulders, firm but careful. “I need sleep. And food. And to have maybe  _ ten minutes  _ to myself. Is that possible? Can you leave me alone for  _ ten fucking minutes?!”  _

 

He shoved past, Gabriel taking a few moments to promise. “Hey! Get back here!” He followed after Sam upset. “We were having a conversation here, where are you going?”

 

“My room. To  _ sleep _ . Geez, go bother someone else.” He shouldered open the door, Gabe not taking the hint and following close behind.

 

“I’m not  _ bothering  _ you, I’m keeping an eye on you!”

 

Sam snapped, slamming him against the wall, holding him up by the armpits so his feet dangled several inches off the floor. “Why?! Why are you doing this? Following me everywhere, leaving me voicemails and emails and texts? Why?

 

“Because…” he wished he could tell him outright, be open and honest, but the lizard part of his brain wanted to run. In a life or death situation, your brain kicks into fight or flight mode, without your body’s permission. Today, yes today, Gabe was going to fight instead of flee. And if he died, so be it. Not like it’d be the first time. “Cuz I like you, you dumbass. _ A lot _ .”

 

“What? N- no, no you don’t. You’re pranking me again. What the hell Gabe?” 

 

“Not a joke. I’ve had feelings for you for years, now. Before? Before I just wanted grab your ass and climb you like a squirrel on a tree. But… but after Asm- Amsod- A- hmmm. After I  _ came home _ , you took care of me, gentle and loving, and you stand up to everyone who abuses or mistreats another person. You have this laugh.. the one where you hear a pun that’s halfway between stupid and not stupid enough, and when I’m having a bad day, I’ll remind myself of the look of peace on your face and that soft laugh and I feel like I can handle anything. I wanna hold your hand and take you to family dinners and introduce you to my crazy aunt as my boyfriend - which is gonna be hard as my family doesn’t  _ do  _ family dinners, but I’d still try, maybe with Cas and Jack. I want to be around, by your side, fighting equally against any other threats. Gank monsters with you, watch movies with you, go grocery shopping with you. I want to feed you chicken soup when you’re sick, run my fingers through your hair and sing crappy love songs along the way to another hunt. I want to have you in my life, however you’ll take me.”

 

Sam said nothing, eyes  flitting back between his eyes, his mouth and his… everything else. Gabriel felt more exposed now that he ever had in his very long existence. Finally though… “I want the same.” Sam’s mouth turned upward in a smile. “I haven’t been… it’s been hard for me, but you’re always there. I thought it was only to annoy me, but I couldn’t help but think of how much I wanted you around. I- Can I kiss you now?” 

 

All the air rushed from him, yanked and stolen from his lungs in a huge gust. “You… you want- you want the same? You’re- please tell me you’re not messing around.”

 

“I’m not messing around.” Sam lowered him, feet no longer dangling. “I want that. I want all of it. Except we don’t know where your aunt is, and I already met her, so no thanks, but the rest…? I want to hold your hand too. I want to go on a picnic with you and make out on a lazy day off and I want to prank Dean together when he’s being a total ass. I want to watch foreign films with you and talk shit about the latest episode of  _ Survivor _ , even though we both  _ hate _ the show. I want to wake up with you in my arms, to fall asleep kissing your lips, I want-“

 

“Yes.” Gabriel’s hands cupped Sam’s face carefully, affectionately. “Yes to all that. And yes, you can kiss me. Please. Please, kiss me.”

 

Sam wouldn’t let him beg anymore, leaning down and kissing his lips, arms wrapped around his middle section. Sam added a touch of tongue, and Gabe lost it. He moaned low and long, some primal thing in Sam’s brain made him want to pin the angel down, Pin him down and rut against him, but he didn’t. They weren’t ready for that. Not even close. So Sam kissed him, held him tight and whimpered a little at the feel of Gabe’s hand on his lower back; shirt tucked up and hand dangerously close to the top of his jeans. 

 

“Maybe…  _ aaahh-“ _ he gasped at the hickey Gabriel was sucking on to his neck. “Maybe we should slow down a bit, I don’t think we should -  _ fuck _ \- rush into this.” Sam pulled back a bit, Gabriel’s mouth unlatching from his neck, both panting. 

 

“Right.  _ Right _ .” His hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders. “Wow. Uh, ahem, that was- just…”

 

“Yeah.” Sam agreed, leaning in to lay a soft peck on his lips. “But I think we should still wait. I-“

 

“No, I agree.” Sam raised a brow. “Oh, come now, Samsquatch. You’re hot, no question about it, but… it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted something… something  _ special _ with someone I care about. I really really  _ really  _ don’t want to mess that up. I-“ he gently stroked a hand on Sam’s face, deep affection in his eyes. “I’ve been around for thousands of years and when you live as long as I have, you start to see the same eyes in different people. But you -  _ my Dad _ , Sam! - you’re eyes are your own. Heaven screwed up with making you my brother’s vessel, cuz your soul is the brightest and warmest thing I’ve ever seen. You don’t know how much you’ve change the world, how much you’ve changed in  _ me.  _ It’s frankly an honour to know you.”

 

“Gabe-“ 

 

“No, listen to me. I look at you and… I feel like I’m home.” 

 

Sam let out a choked off sob, kissing his lover’s face, peppering tiny kisses on his eyelids, cheeks, nose, anything and everything he could reach. “You’re home. You’re home. You’re safe, we’re okay and we’re safe. We’re home.”

 

Gabriel hadn’t had a home in a long time. When he left heaven, that was it. Sure, there was the odd lover here and there, but he always knew they were temporary. But Sam? Sam was home. Sam was forever. He’d go back to heaven only after Sam’s death - one that Gabriel would make sure wouldn’t happen this century - to join his soul in his own personal heaven.  _ Their  _ personal heaven. Yes, this wasn’t something he wanted to mess up. 

 

He kissed Sam gently, the kiss turning heated but still slow, careful. He gently pushed at his chest, walking them toward the bed. “I’m not gonna try to get in your pants,” he assured Sam between breaths. “I just think If were laying on the bed, you won’t get such a crick in your neck.”

 

Sam laughed, pulling Gabriel on top of him. “Whatever you say.” 


End file.
